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Page 50
Page 50
Then there was Dăneşti. He was fond of his role of doling out punishments. Was that the mark of a person who’d descended from disciplinarian to murderer? I couldn’t be sure.
I searched for other oddities, no longer accepting anyone at face value. Andrei sat alone at the end of one long table, focus fixed on a knot in the grain he was picking at. Gone was the cocky curve of his lips and the squared-shouldered stance I’d come to know him by. He now sat folded in on himself, as if he could no longer find the energy to sit up.
I nudged Thomas with my foot, then leaned in, my lips nearly brushing his ear. I noted the slight shiver it elicited from him and ignored the answering stutter in my pulse.
“What do you make of that?” I said, indicating Andrei. “Is it all for Nicolae?”
“Hmm.” Thomas studied him for a few moments, sharp gaze taking stock of each movement or lack thereof. He drummed his fingers along the edge of our table. “His worry doesn’t appear to be entirely related to Nicolae. Note the chain around his collar and the pendant hanging from it. I wager it’s a lock of hair. He’s been preoccupied since Miss Anastasia Nádasdy’s appearance in our laboratory. I believe he’s mourning both, but is broken by her death in particular. He might have longed to secure a union with her.”
“She’d mentioned admiring someone. She thought he hadn’t noticed her affections, though. Do you believe he might be involved with her death? Everyone around him is either dead or missing. Is it a coincidence?”
Thomas considered that. “A definite possibility. Though it seems Andrei is the sort of dog that growls loudly and bites rarely. I’ve a feeling whoever took Nicolae has deeper motives. If he’s been taken at all.”
“You believe he’s not missing, then?”
“For all we know, he could be in hiding. Ileana very well might be the one he’s captured and done horrid things to. We still don’t know why he created those illustrations. Or how he knew the injuries on Anastasia were made by bats. He barely even glanced at her. Quite impressive that he identified those wounds so effortlessly.”
An idea sparked like flint striking stone. “If you were guilty and wanted to hide, where might you go first?”
“Depends on what I’m guilty of. Dirty thoughts or wanton follies, I’d send myself straight to your quarters to be punished.”
“Honestly,” I chided, subtly checking over my shoulder to make sure his remark hadn’t been overheard by Percy or Radu. “We need to find a way to get back into the tunnels. I guarantee that’s where we’ll find the missing prince.”
Guards flooded the dining hall, swords clacking together as if they were the talons of dragons. Headmaster Moldoveanu marched to the front of the hall, long silver hair flowing behind, a general’s cape of sorts.
“You are all required to stay here until we locate Prince Nicolae. To maintain a sense of normality, you will continue with classes. Everyone will be escorted to and from the classrooms. Meals will be sent directly to your private quarters. No one is to leave their chambers or this castle until the royal family has declared otherwise. Anyone caught disobeying will face serious charges.” He glared down the tables at us, his gaze pausing on me for emphasis as he strode to the door and shoved it open. “You are all dismissed. Guards will escort you out now.”
The Bianchi twins slowly pushed back from their seats, followed by Andrei, Erik, Cian, and Noah, the wooden benches scratching against the floor in grave protest. It made absolutely no sense for the royal family to keep us locked away in the academy when a murderer might be somewhere within its walls. Unless they wanted to keep news of Nicolae’s disappearance contained.
Especially if they knew something about him we were still unaware of.
If he were the Impaler alluded to in the newspapers, then perhaps they were trying to keep him from the rest of the kingdom. To protect their citizens at the cost of losing a few. Or maybe they were preventing him from turning his attention to their throne.
Dăneşti and several other guards barked out orders for us to move quickly, their hands lingering near their weapons. None of us so much as uttered a word as we filed out of the room and into the corridors. It seemed as if Thomas and I would have to find another way to communicate. I prayed he’d not attempt scaling the castle again.
After being escorted to my rooms as if I were a common prisoner, the first thing I noticed was an envelope pinned by a dagger to my bathing room doors. My guard hadn’t been tasked with searching my chambers and had left promptly after depositing me in the tower.
I yanked the paper from the door, noticing that the dagger resembled something that I couldn’t quite place. The hilt was a serpent with emeralds for eyes. Where had I seen this design before?
I flipped through my memories of arriving in Romania and halted. On the train. The victim outside my room had been in possession of a similar jeweled cane. How that related to this case was one more mystery to solve later. The parchment and whatever it contained was my first concern. I hesitated for only a breath before ripping the message from its envelope. Inside the message was simple—a Roman numeral scratched in blood.
XI
My knees buckled. At first, my rational thoughts were washed away by the flood of emotions threatening to undo me. Whoever had left this note had tried imitating the letters Jack the Ripper had written in blood. I slumped to the floor near the tub, pulse racing, as I collected myself. It was a shot aimed directly at my weakest parts, but I was not the same young woman I had been weeks ago.
I was emotionally stronger now. Capable of so much more than I’d ever known. This strike would not force me into compliance; it would propel me into an offensive position. I was no longer prey, but the hunter. I pushed myself up and grabbed the note. I did a quick check of the hidden door located in the cabinet and found it was still locked from the outside. Either the person who delivered this note had the key or was unaware of the secret staircase.
A plan of action was already forming as I entered my sleeping chamber and undressed. Whoever had sent the message thought or hoped I’d come after them. I wouldn’t disappoint. I’d overcome death, and destruction, and heartache, and would not let any of those dark times define me. I was the rose with thorns my mother knew me to be.
My breeches were still drying from our adventure last night, so a simple skirt was the next best thing. I stepped into it, grateful to be rid of my bustle and corset, and buttoned up my bodice. It felt magnificent to move about with ease. I wanted no hindrances while I stole about the castle tonight.
I was going to hunt down the Order and whoever was pretending that Dracula lived.
I strode over to my looking glass and pinned my hair up, taking pains to secure it tightly to my head. A headache teased my temples, but I fought it away with sheer will. Once I’d taken care of my outfit, I wrote a note to Thomas.
Cresswell,
I have an urgent request. I need to see the Poezii Despre Moarte. Bring it to my chambers after supper. I have a bit of an adventurous evening planned for us.
Yours,
AR
P.S. Please do not clamber about the castle walls this time. I’m sure you will think of some creative way to sneak about without ending up in the dungeon again, or splattered on the academy’s lawn.
“Will you take this to Mr. Cresswell for me?” I asked the maid when she’d come to deliver my luncheon. She gulped and glanced at the letter as if it had teeth ready to bite her. “Este urgent.”
“Foarte bine, domnişoară.” She reluctantly placed it on her tray. “Is there anything else you need?”
I shook my head, feeling terrible about involving her in my scheme but seeing no other way to pass the message along.
I paced and planned the remainder of daylight away, which was an enormous test of will. Afternoon certainly took its time slipping into its evening attire, but once it pulled its cloak of night on, I’d never been more pleased to see the inky black sky. As I marched around the sitting room, I became fearful that Thomas might not come after all. Perhaps the maid hadn’t delivered my letter. Or maybe he had been caught by a guard and was once again in the dungeon.
Of all the scenarios I’d envisioned, I hadn’t thought of carrying out my plan alone. When I’d convinced myself he wasn’t coming and it was time to move on to the next course of action, a soft knock came at my door. Thomas slipped inside before I had moved two paces, his gaze alight with interest.
“I have a feeling you haven’t invited me here for kissing. Though it never hurts to ask.” He grinned at my ensemble and rubbed his hands together, mischief sparking like fireworks around him. “You’re dressed for sneaking about Dracula’s castle. Be still my thawing, dark heart. You certainly know how to make a young man feel alive, Wadsworth.”
TOWER CHAMBERS
CAMERE DIN TURN
BRAN CASTLE
22 DECEMBER 1888
“Did you bring it?” I asked, ready to search Thomas’s pockets myself if he didn’t move faster.
“Hello, nice to see you as well, Wadsworth.” He stepped away from the door, stopping within reach as he brandished the Poezii Despre Moarte. Without preamble, I snatched it from him, flipping to the poem “XI” as I informed him about the note I’d found on my bathing chamber door.
XI
LORDS WEEP, LADIES CRY. DOWN THE ROAD, SAY GOOD-BYE.
LAND SHIFTS AND CAVES DWELL. DEEP IN EARTH, WARM AS HELL.
WATER SEEPS COLD, DEEP, AND FAST. WITHIN ITS WALLS YOU SHE WILL NOT LAST.
“Look at this,” I said. Someone had taken a quill and struck the you out, replacing it with she. I swallowed down the anxiety swirling in my system. “Do you believe this is in reference to your sister?”
Thomas read the poem again. I watched the transformation as his warmth and flirtatiousness were replaced by the clinical expression he wore for most everyone else. Tension was still present in his shoulders, though, the only sign that he was ill at ease.
“I believe it’s referring either to her or possibly Ileana. Maybe even Anastasia.” Thomas continued staring at the poem. “It’s extraordinary, really. Whoever plotted this out…” He squared his shoulders. “This has all been a morbid game and we’re just now realizing that we’re players.”